


Call Me Maybe

by wendalee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Study in Pink, Carly Rae Jepsen - Freeform, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:46:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendalee/pseuds/wendalee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I threw a wish in the well, don’t ask me, I’ll never tell…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me Maybe

John hadn’t really had planned on anything when he agreed to meet Sherlock Holmes. He hadn’t counted on Sherlock being … well, Sherlock. He was enigmatic without trying to be. He was interesting without trying to be. And he was brilliant, but that he worked very hard at.

Yes, Sherlock Holmes knew how smart he was. But like many geniuses, he was woefully ignorant about some things.

Like how he offered a bedroom to a man without thinking of the consequences.

Before the tall, thin man ran out the door into the London afternoon, John scribbled his name and number down on a piece of paper and yelled after him, “Call me! … maybe.”

John wasn’t particularly expecting anything out of moving in with Sherlock Holmes, even though it had been a long time since he had kissed anyone, let alone anything else. But when he showed up at 221B Baker Street, he was shocked at the sight.

Sherlock had ditched the expensive coat and suit in favor of a white shirt and jeans, artfully ripped at the knees. John stood, transfixed, as he reached for a copy of Gray’s Anatomy on the top shelf, his shirt riding up to reveal the soft-looking skin at the small of his back. John’s mouth immediately went dry as he thought about touching that skin, before giving himself a firm mental shake.

“Hello!” he said brightly, trying to cover up the fact that he had just been ogling a man he had barely known a day.

As Sherlock whirled around, it took John’s breath away. He found it hard to look directly at him because he was so beautiful. “Glad you found it,” Sherlock said shortly. “Mrs. Hudson, our landlady, should be up with tea in a few minutes.”

John was acutely aware that he was holding his breath a moment later and remembered to breathe. Sherlock probably wasn’t interested anyway. After all, he had given him his number and Sherlock had never called or texted him. Especially since Sherlock was tall, with cheekbones that could cut glass and an ass that was just begging him to grab hold of and he was … just John. He never claimed to be anything special. He was carrying a bit of extra weight around the middle, his face looked like it had been carved out of marshmallows and most people just looked directly over him or through him.

But before Mrs. Hudson could ply them with tea and biscuits, Sherlock’s phone began ringing merrily. John gleaned very little from the conversation and chose to watch Sherlock’s face light up more and more the farther into the call.

Sherlock hung up the phone, pirouetted around the living room and sprinted into his bedroom. He emerged a few minutes later, clad in his usual suit, grabbed his coat and raced out the door. John raised his eyebrows at what he just witnessed before making himself comfortable in an easy chair.

An older woman appeared in the doorway to the flat, holding a tray with two cups of tea on it. “Yes, he’s always like that,” she said.

“Like what?” came an affronted voice from the doorway.

“Oh, Sherly, you know how you get,” the woman who had to be Mrs. Hudson said affectionately. Sherlock gave her a petulant look and John was immediately struck with the feeling that she was one of the few who was allowed to get away with calling him ‘Sherly.’

“Look, I’ll be needing a doctor’s opinion at this crime scene, so could you possibly join me?” Sherlock said in a rush. He was flushed and looking breathless and utterly kissable, if John was being honest with himself. He nodded vigorously and raced out the door after the consulting detective.

Following a crazy day involving chases around London and John eventually shooting someone in the head, the former Army doctor was trying to figure out exactly what had happened to his life. He hadn’t asked for this. He hadn’t signed up for this. And he was nursing, frankly, a massive crush on his new flatmate.

As they caught a cab after the shooting, Sherlock hopped in after John, giving directions to a local Chinese place on their way back to Baker Street.

“I’ll take the room,” John said steadily.

“Good, because I’m not letting you leave. You’re too … valuable to me.”

John looked at him with a questioning look, prompting Sherlock to stumble on. “I honestly didn’t know what to expect from you, John, but I’ve got a problem. You’re in my way.” John’s face still was mired in confusion. “Most of the time, when I show some interest in a person, they immediately back off. The ones I have no interest in constantly follow me around. You are neither of those.”

“Which one are you?” John asked, his heart thumping.

“What?”

“Are you interested or … not? Either is fine, really,” he added quickly.

“I would have thought that was obvious,” Sherlock said, smiling lasciviously in his direction.

“So how am I in your way again?” John asked.

Sherlock slid across the bench seat in the back of the cab and covered John’s mouth with his. A chaste kiss, which turned very passionate after Sherlock broke it to whisper, “give in to me” in John’s ear.

Before they knew it, they were at Baker Street. It took a couple of raps on the partition for the cabbie to get their attention, due to their fervent snogging. Sherlock tossed a handful of bills and raced up the stairs and into the flat, with John’s kiss-addled brain following him sluggishly.

He barely got all the way in the flat before Sherlock grabbed him and slammed him back up against the front door, locking it while caging John in with his arms. “What are your intentions for me, John?”

John had temporarily lost the capability of speech and simply responded by grabbing Sherlock by the neck and dragging his mouth down to meet his, pulling the consulting detective flush with his body. Shoving him back and in the direction of the sofa, he continued his thorough exploration of Sherlock’s mouth with his tongue before shoving him down on the sofa.

He laid down next to Sherlock and deftly began unbuttoning his shirt while continuing to explore his mouth before moving his mouth further and further south. Sherlock was whimpering softly while trying to feel as much of John as he could. With an insistent tug on the back of his jumper, he pulled John back up to face level.

“Are you sure about this, John?”

“Not at all,” John said before kissing Sherlock again and positioning himself so his groin was grinding up against Sherlock’s thigh. John walked his fingertips down to where Sherlock’s trousers started. He paused, as if waiting for permission, and got a groan from Sherlock, which he took as tacit consent. He made quick work of the trousers and palmed Sherlock’s growing erection through his pants, feeling a wet spot of pre-come.

“You know, John, I’m only in my pants and I can’t help but notice that you are still fully clothed.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” John said suggestively. In one swift motion, Sherlock flipped John on his back on the sofa and tugged his jumper over his head and began cataloguing every inch of John’s neck. He ran his fingers over all of John’s torso, pausing to flick experimentally at one of John’s nipples – his effort was rewarded with a deep moan from John – and eventually made his way down to the waistband of John’s jeans.

“Yes, please,” John said breathily, assisting him by wiggling out of his jeans so that only his pants remained.

By that point, Sherlock had had enough with the cramped conditions on the sofa and dragged John down the hallway to his bedroom. Somewhere along the way, both of them lost their pants and fell into bed, as naked as they could possibly be.

They laid in bed for several minutes, just studying each other and running each other’s hands over one another breathlessly. Then began the kisses, very light at first before getting insistent and needy.

Finally, John couldn’t take it anymore. He reached down and grabbed a handful of Sherlock’s ass, bringing the taller man against him so that their cocks rubbed together, causing a mutual moan of pleasure from both of them. That was all the prodding Sherlock needed before grabbing John’s hand – the one that wasn’t firmly stroking his ass – and joined their hands together over their cocks.

“You seem to really like what you’ve got a handful of there,” Sherlock whispered in John’s ear.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been admiring it for the last day.”

“So wearing my old jeans from uni while I was tidying the flat yesterday had their desired effect.”

“You prat. You planned that?”

Sherlock just smiled and continued to set a good pace with his hand, causing John to dip his head back. Sherlock could see that he was unraveling at quite a rapid pace. With his free hand, he guided John’s face back up to level with his. He wanted to watch John as he orgasmed, knowing that he made that happen. It had been so long since he made that happened to another person.

Another few tugs and there was a warm liquid shooting between the two of them. John’s breath was shuddery against Sherlock’s lips as he kissed him through his orgasm, wrapping his arms around him and rubbing the sweat off his back.

He cleaned up them up with a spare flannel he had, covered them both up with his duvet and John snuggled in as if he had always done it. “Is this okay?”

“It’s more than okay.”

“You sure?”

“John, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I know one thing: I think I would miss you even if we never met.”

“What?”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is … before you came into my life I missed you so bad, I missed you so bad, I missed you so, so bad.”

“Stop it.”

“What? I’ve had that infernal song stuck in my head ever since you gave me your mobile number.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hoped you enjoyed reading this! This was a pure crack ficlet that came to me in a fit of procrastinating reading my sports law textbook, so if even one person comments or leaves kudos, it'll be worth it.


End file.
